


I Could Never Be (Ready)

by That_One_Random_Guy



Series: Steven Universe Stories [5]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: And it didn't end as well, Angst, Blood, Death, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt Greg Universe, Hurt Steven Universe, I keep hurting my boy, If the crash was more realistic (?), Mourning, Sad, Semi-Graphic Injuries, Someone stop me, Spoilers for Episode: s06e15 Mr. Universe, The gems are only really mentioned, because I can't stop myself, car crash, injuries, poor steven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23337679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_One_Random_Guy/pseuds/That_One_Random_Guy
Summary: There were a lot of things that Greg Universe had not been ready for.He hadn’t been prepared to become a rock star, and he never would have thought he’d choose to stay in Beach City. Falling in love was definitely something he hadn’t expected (much less with an alien space goddess).But how could he have ever prepared to lose his son?
Relationships: Greg Universe & Steven Universe
Series: Steven Universe Stories [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1539886
Comments: 17
Kudos: 73





	I Could Never Be (Ready)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I'm back with another angsty fic! Mr. Universe got me really emotional so now I've gotta spread it to you guys ;3c I tried to write a fic with no dialogue whatsoever, and this was the result! How do you think I did?

There were a lot of things that Greg Universe had not been ready for.

He hadn’t been prepared to become a rock star, and he never would have thought he’d choose to stay in Beach City. Falling in love was definitely something he hadn’t expected (much less with an alien space goddess). 

Then he had lost her; she was gone--just like that. It was almost as if he had her one moment, and the next she had been ripped away from his arms. But, as much as it hurt him to say so, the day of her death hadn’t been the worst day of his life. Because, though he lost her that fateful day, he had gained something even more amazing, even more beautiful than anything he could have lost. He gained Steven; he gained a son.

Steven was his baby boy, his sunshine, the light of his life, his _everything._ He would happily move Heaven and Hell for his boy. When Steven was little, Greg had worried about how he would ever relate to his hybrid son. But as Steven grew older and became twice the man Greg ever was, he knew his fears were unfounded. And when Steven had told him about Little Homeschool, he had been so, _so_ proud of his little boy.

He hadn’t been ready for any of these things, but over time he grew used to it; used to staying in Beach City, used to Rose being gone, used to having Steven around. He had learned to be ready for anything; he was finally happy--finally content with his life.

But how could he have ever prepared to lose his son? Never in his life did Greg think that he would lose that boy; he depended on it. Everything he did, he did for Steven.

Greg squinted his eyes, trying to regain his vision. His head was pounding, and he groaned as he struggled to get up. A pain in his leg disrupted his attempts and he fell back to the ground with a huff. After a moment, he realized that he was pinned down by a stray piece of metal. _Metal?_ Of course; the car had crashed. Steven had been glowing pink--

_Steven!_ Greg’s breath hitched and his heart rate picked up as he failed to spot his son amid the wreckage around him. _He must be outside the van._ Steeling himself, Greg grit his teeth and poured all his energy into pushing the metal that was crushing his leg. It fell to the side with a loud _thud_ , freeing him. Instantly, he pulled his leg towards him and struggled out of the mess that had once been his van.

Scrambling out of the wreckage, he saw his son (The boy who had cheered him up every time he was sad with a bright smile and a hug, the boy who always said sorry about everything that went wrong, even if it wasn’t his fault, the boy who had made his life worth _living_ again--) lying broken and bloodied on the grass several feet away from him; It was like his world had crumbled to pieces. Suddenly he didn’t care about the totaled van, the several cuts and bruises that littered his own body, his pounding headache, his poor leg, or anything else besides his boy.

He had limped as fast as he could over to Steven and sunk down beside him, slipping his arms underneath the boy’s back and pulling his son towards his chest, cradling him. He was already cold. (Steven was _never_ cold; his gem produced heat that practically turned the boy into a living furnace.) The thought made Greg shudder, and he couldn’t stop the wail that escaped him, even if he tried. 

Steven was deathly pale (Steven was pale by nature, but his skin always sported a slight blush and a healthy pink tint. He had always looked _alive_ ), nearly gray, as if all his blood was staining the grass rather than flowing through him as it should. Greg ran his fingertips along Steven’s cheek, half expecting the boy to open his eyes at the touch. Wiping some blood away from his son’s half-open mouth with his free thumb, he pressed a gentle kiss to Steven’s brow, a shuddering sob escaping him as he embraced his son tighter.

They had been fighting, hadn’t they? Before the car crashed? Steven had been so _angry_ , so upset with the world, so upset with _Greg._ He was so reasonably angry but Greg remained oblivious. Of course Steven was enraged by the fact he didn’t grow up like other kids, that he wasn’t _normal_ like Greg had been. (Looking back, Greg would be so mad at himself for arguing with his son. The last moments he had shared with Steven were ones filled with rage and harsh words.)

He desperately ran his fingers through Steven’s curly hair (trying his best to ignore the blood that was caked against his son’s scalp) as if he could wake his boy by doing so. He had done this before; he would run his hands through Steven’s hair when he was younger and still lived with him, doing so to calm him and lull his son to sleep. (He had stopped doing it when Steven had moved in with the gems, insisting that he could fall asleep on his own. Though Steven would always be Greg’s little boy, in his heart.) He wished with all his being that that’s all this was; Steven was sleeping, he had just dozed off again while they watched a movie together. 

Letting out a strangled sob, he pressed his son’s head close to his chest, desperately feeling around for a pulse or a breath even though he knew there would be nothing. (He remembers when Steven was born, and how he would always press his ear to the baby’s belly just to listen to that steady heartbeat and reassure himself that his son was still there. He was so afraid he’d lose Steven like he lost Rose; it turns out he was right, in the end.)

Though, everything paled in comparison to the wounds that had claimed his son’s life; there was a large gash in Steven’s throat and several scattered across his torso, presumably from the debris of the car flying at him and slashing him on its way by. His throat was still slowly oozing blood, though his torso had stopped bleeding (but not before emptying what seemed like nearly all the blood in Steven’s veins onto the ground).

Greg tried desperately not to think about how _scared_ Steven must have been when it happened. He tried not to imagine the spluttering, the choking, the agonized gurgles as Steven desperately tried to find his dad. He didn’t want to think about how Steven had been left on the grass to bleed out _alone._

Greg couldn’t hold back the tears anymore; the droplets cascaded down his face in small rivulets, landing on Steven’s relaxed face as Greg’s throat constricted in grief. Greg gripped Steven so tightly that the boy would have yelped in pain _(if he was--)_

Greg _screamed._ Ragged sobs and wet gasps shook his body as his thoughts whirled in his mind, sorrow threatening to suffocate him. He knew he was wailing desperately, calling Steven’s name, begging for him to come back, even if he didn’t remember it. He knew that eventually he was surrounded by EMTs, and he stared at them wearily, eyes blurred with tears. They were talking (Greg couldn’t hear them, his brain seemed to have shut down completely) but Greg looked away, back at his son. 

One of the EMTs moved to take Steven, but Greg let out a cry and hugged his son closer, whispering reassurances as if Steven could hear him. Greg refused to let them take his boy, screeching that Steven was hurt and that they couldn’t move him. Eventually, some of the EMTs’ words bled through the fog that had engulfed his brain; they were saying that his son was gone, that he had to let go. Greg froze momentarily; What were they talking about? Steven wasn’t _gone._ He _couldn’t_ be.

At that moment he was forced to accept the unimaginable; Steven was gone, his cold body devoid of any and all life (Steven was _always_ so full of life--)

While he was distracted with his thoughts, one of the EMTs had reached out and snatched Steven from his arms, laying his boy on the hard ground. Greg let out a yell and lunged for his son, only to be held back by one of the men surrounding him. They were telling him that he needed to calm down but how could he be calm when they were _keeping Steven away from him--_

Greg sat on the grass, laying down a bright flower on the patchy grass in front of him. It had been a few months since that awful day, and grief still pierced Greg like a blade every time someone said his son’s name. 

The gems had distanced themselves from him, grieving in their own right. Amethyst had practically shut down at the news, while Pearl had become hyperfocused on cleaning (to distract herself, Greg suspected.) Garnet had cried and broken apart, not re-fusing until several weeks afterward. 

But Connie? Connie had taken it the hardest. She had broken down completely when she found out, rambling about how it was all her fault and how she should’ve put a pause on her studying because _Steven was more important._ Greg had sunk to the floor with her, embracing the poor girl and sobbing with her.

Greg let out a sigh, looking from the flower to the stone before it. Swallowing back the unwelcome urge to cry, he gently ran his fingertips along the hard surface, wishing with everything in him that it was Steven’s soft face instead. (It was quiet today. It seemed as though the whole world mourned with Greg for the boy who helped everyone, for the boy who _saved_ everyone, and yet for the boy who failed to save himself.)

Sitting before his son’s tombstone, completely defeated, Greg suddenly didn’t care what happened next. (his whole future was supposed to be him watching _Steven’s_ life unfold.) 

There was nothing left to be ready for now, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Someone really needs to take Steven away from me before I hurt him even more--
> 
> (Do I even have a single fic where he doesn't die so far? I don't think so...Well, time to write some fluff to even it out!)


End file.
